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Darth Atroxus
"On my homeworld of Skye if one is not in line with the norm, if one is not what is intended...they are killed. Before they hatch. Before they're even thought of as something worthy of potential, their eggs are taken, crushed. But when you rise above what is intended. When you are something more...then they don't know what to do with you."
"That is the difference here, in this place. In these sacred temples of the Sith. If you are not what is intended, you will be crushed. If you are something more though...you are rewarded. We know exactly what to do with those who show potential. You are elevated, you are taught and when the time comes you are given the right, not the priveledge but the right to crush those who are not what is intended." Darth Atroxus, stood at his full 7 foot height, an imposing figure lecturing new acolytes before their training begins in earnest.
"My native world is a harsh, unforgiving place. Where those who can follow should do so, and those who can lead should do so carefully. A thousand years ago it was said we allied with another empire. A thousand years ago it is said that empire failed. This one will not. It can not. The Sith here are strong, numerous, powerful. It is fitting that I rose above the ranks. People assumed me to be weak, my wings a target. I built with my own hands a lightweight cortosis woven armor to go over them. I turned my weakness, my target into a weapon and a shield. It limits my flight, but running is not an option in battle." He paused, moving a wing down over the stone, a screeching noise of the sharpened metal tips of the wings accentuating his point.
"A coward will not be accepted here. A coward will die. A weakling will not be allowed to live. Suffer not incompetence, or dimwittedness. You will succeed or be wiped out, forgotten. Another lost memory of a life not worthy. Your emotions will guide you, your ambitions will be your star charts. Your strength will provide the means needed to achieve whatever you desire and through this you will be given freedom...if you can earn it. That is the way of the darkside. That is the way you will all embrace." He wrapped his wings around him and threw his cloak on atop them, perfectly hidden underneath the slightly oversized robes.
"Now someone else will watch you pathetic fools, give you guidance if you need it...I believe I've made my point." He turned to leave the near terrorized young students to contemplate his words. The reality of what the Sith offered was there, embodied in the strong avian humanoid before them. Strength, unyielding power and determination but only if they could achieve it for themselves.
Known to be an accomplished Sith Alchemist, and duelist taking a balanced focus on integrating the use of the force with his lightsaber styles. Not quite a full fledged sorcerer but capable of standing against the greatest of warriors. Atroxus was somewhat of an amalgam, focusing on the force powers that gave his opponents greatest distraction in combat and boosting his own natural skill and talent. Very little was known to be "flashy" about the Sith Lord, but all knew him to be deadly, thus proving a point. Standing out isn't necessary, only results matter.
Lord Atroxus had taken few apprentices, none managed to pass his trials. All died, and so when he left none followed, no one attempted to gain his notice. This to him, was a bad sign for the new brood of acolytes he just addressed...but in the grand scheme of things that mattered very little...
The winged Lord walked away from the group, ready to leave the temple and return back to his own lair. He had over time constructed with the aid of workers who were either killed or had their minds completely wiped after the completion deep under the hills in a cave system beneath Bastion. As he programmed his speeder to take him far out of the city complexes and to his main home he thought about how long it took to create. Nearly half a decade of stone workers, excavators, reinforcements...all of whom naturally had to be killed.
He approached family men who had been thrown to the wayside by the changes in the empire and at the completion of his labs, and meditation chambers he brought them there. One by one and sometimes by two's and threes. All expecting the wealth he had promised them. The winged creature stood tall, blue skin eerily lit by the fires in the cave system. He would address them all similarly. "You have done well. Each worker served a great purpose here this day. You were chosen because you were in need, in need of wealth for your families. Lead astray by the rapidly changing climate of the Empire..." the men smiled as they misunderstood his words as an appreciation of their efforts.
"And as such, I will award you for your positions, as promised. When we started this venture, it was agreed that these traits were why I was hiring you. What you failed to understand is that your position in life are weak." He walked, his wings moving expanding every so often stretching a little, causing the light to dance oddly on the metallic armor around them. "You could not afford to feed your families. You would not fight to earn what you needed...you felt me giving you this job a godsend. You were decieved." Some of the men became angry, others afraid. All emotions charged in the darkside that Atroxus drank in as he easily swept passed their emotional defenses. He used them to practice a new technique he had learned. To perfect it. Torture through Chagrin.
In their minds they watched over and over their starving children, their angry wives. Fights, the feeling of hopelessness, of despair growing stronger. Memories played billions of times over, seconds feeling like days as they ticked away. "You failed them. You failed yourself. There is no room for that kind of failure in this empire..." They would grasp at their skulls, tears flooding their eyes. Pulling at their hair in defiance but to little avail. "Your families too are weak. They will be brought here, after they come looking for you. They will die..." He dropped the Torture by Chagrin and began a new mind game. Implanting images into their heads of their wives and children being slaughtered by Sith Alchemy beasts that were even now in the process of being bred by Atroxus.
The men would all collapse after a few hours of this, the darkside pouring out of them in this place. Begging for death, searching for anything to kill themselves with in order to keep the visions from continuing. Finally their minds would snap, and they would fall over dead, to be taken away and used in other experiments. But it would hardly end there...family members are after all, loose ends.
Atroxus would lure the families there, stating that everything was quite alright and going according to plan. He would use the force to make them obey and follow him deep within the caverns only to drop the hold on their minds and repeat similar processes with the bodies of the dead men lined in front of them. "Your husband was weak. Begging for death. Begging to be removed from you and the child." They would argue and become enraged. The darkside would grow. On and on it would continue, with their slow agonizing deaths. Drawing every last drop of emotional energy. The death toll in those caves would reach hundreds, for every one working was picked because of their large families. Sometimes distant relatives would come looking and they too would undergo the process of feeding the darkside. Through the process of giving their minds to Atroxus. Of reliving the horrors that their family went through in this place time and time again...and they too, would break.
The end result was a presence in the darkside, a very strong presence within those caves under Bastion. A place where the Sith Lord could practice his Sith Alchemy, where he could meditate. All that for a simple place of power, every time the Sith Lord thought of it he smiled a cold smile. The lives he took, the minds he shattered. It was the perfect experiment and it had worked out exceptionally well. He had come out of it with a state of the art defense system as well, having payed for that himself. Paranoia, ever a trademark of the darkside...
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It had been some time since Atroxus had last been seen. The title of Darth stripped form him, as he had been assumed dead, or defected. Either was of course completely without proof. He had left one day, on a journey with his former padawan to find a Holocron. It had taken months, for him to be spotted, but when he returned, he'd seemed different. Changed somehow, though he claims to have not found the holocron he had searched so long for, and his apprentice was mysteriously missing. He has yet to remake contact with the Sith, still living in a self imposed exile unsure of what his next move should be with the knowledge he found out in the galaxy.
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Lightsaber: Two Crimson curved hilted lightsabers.
Lightsaber style: Ataru; Master Vapad: Intermidate
Age: 32
Race: S'kytri
Force Powers: Wave, Pull, Speed, Jump, Insanity, Illusion, Cloak, Plague, Torture by Chagrin, Drain Knowledge, Force Lightening, Detoxify Poison, Breath Control, Deflection, Tutaminis.
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